Black Light
by Aerin Blair
Summary: Harry is raised by Sirius and Bellatrix, and learns to hate the light side that pursues them. Highly AU, slash in future chapters won't say who, though!
1. things happen differently

**Plot:** Harry is raised by Sirius and Bellatrix, and learns to hate the light side that pursues them. Highly AU, slash in future chapters won't say who, though!  
**Characters:** Harry Potter, Sirius Black, and Bellatrix Black/Lestrange almost exclusively for the first few chapters.  
**Author's Notes:** This story is going to be AU. Really, really AU. But the change from canon comes from some very small differences. In canon, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rudolphus Lestrange and Rabastan Lestrange go torture the Longbottoms just after Voldemort's demise, trying to get information on where he is. Personally, I've always thought that the torture, and subsequent imprisonment, were what caused her to go insane. In this story, Voldemort has given one of his most trusted servants the job of eliminating the Longbottoms, and their son, Neville - because even if he found Harry more of a threat, it never made sense to me that he hadn't considered Neville at all.  
Second, Bellatrix Black, according to canon, gets married shortly after graduating from Hogwarts, to Rudolphus Lestrange. Althought I am following this, I am making it a very definite marriage of duty. Bellatrix and Rudolphus will not live with each other, and they will be married in little less than name, barely knowing each other.  
This is the revised version of the chapter, with better characterisation, I hope. Thanks for the patience!

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The old-fashioned lampposts along the cobblestone street glowed cheerily. A tall figure blinked into view, suddenly, and began to walk down the street. As it passed under the lights, a sharp-featured woman's face was illuminated, with full pink lips. There was a feral edge to the set of her brows, and a desperate sort of glint in her dark eyes.

She stopped in front of one of the silent houses and read the number on the fence carefully. Setting her jaw and straightening her back, she stepped through the gate, then up a path of worn stones which turned into steps. She drew up to the front door and stopped, tossing back the hood of the long cloak she wore.

Inside, muffled through the door, she could hear a baby's excited laugh. "Good job! Come on now, walk to daddy! Come on, Nevvy!" someone cooed.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob for a long moment.

She opened it.

The next few minutes were a blur of screams and crying and spells tripping from her lips. It was all over too soon for her; if nothing else, she loved a good duel. But they were quickly subdued. The man lay silent on the floor, Stupefied. His wife was passed out - her legs were bent at an odd angle; Bellatrix thought she might have broken them but she wasn't sure. And the baby - the baby was screaming, plump face screwed up and fingers halfway in his mouth, nose running all over the place.

"Kill the child first" - those had been her instructions. She stepped closer to him where he sat on the carpet, and he began to hiccup from the strength of his tears.

She stared at him for a minute... he was so young. She raised her wand, and he started to cry even more loudly - she stiffened. Then, angrily, she turned and ran out the door, leaving it open as she apparated in the split second between her feet leaving the steps and touching the ground.

Her body reappeared in an even quieter neighborhood, and she strode determinedly until coming to a house with a cheap "For Sale" sign in the yard. Sitting down on the front steps, her head in her hands, she tangled her fingers in her dark hair. The street lights flickered out, and she jumped and then cursed herself for a coward. She tapped her wand with one of her fingers, deftly, as if it were a cigarette, and the end lit immediately, giving her pale face and dark hair a ghostly, blue-tinged glow.

She couldn't do it. The consequences, of course, would be dire - she winced, thinking of the Cruciatus she had endured on her initiation night, the memory from long ago but as clear and sharp as if it was happening again as she sat there - but she could not kill them. He will be angry, very angry, she thought, and fear flooded her. She sat for a moment, looking out at the darkness.

Then she gasped and clutched her forearm, her wand dropping forgotten to the ground. She had to bite her lip to hold back a scream -

She pulled back her sleeve, blocking out the pain with a shudder. The mark - the sign of her service to Him - was burning, making the design stand out even more from her pale arm. A skull, with a snake curled about it; it had taken all her reserves not to scream as he burned it there.

Then the pain stopped, and she gasped with the sudden relief. Still throbbing dully, the mark began to fade. That's not right, she thought frantically, and she clenched her arm, staring at the vanishing mark. Was He doing it? Had He known her disobedience?

"No!" she hissed, panicked, scooping up her wand as she stood - she would beg for his forgiveness, her Lord would forgive her, he had to!

She turned on her heels and disappeared.


	2. an arrival

**Plot:** Harry is raised by Sirius and Bellatrix, and learns to hate the light side that pursues them. Highly AU, slash in future chapters won't say who, though!  
**Characters:** Harry Potter, Sirius Black, and Bellatrix Black/Lestrange almost exclusively for the first few chapters.  
**Author's Notes:** This is the revised version of the chapter, with better characterisation, I hope. Thanks for the patience!

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She landed in front of a silent house. The windows were lit and the front gate was open; fall leaves tumbled across the yard. There was something wrong about this - when she was called, it was never this way.

The mark wasn't hanging heavily in the sky, though, and she jumped as crying came from the house. Sound, even if it was crying or screaming, was better than silence.

She tried the front doorknob warily and drew her wand when it swung open. The hallway was quiet, domestic even, but for the body lying limply on the floor. She checked the pulse, just in case, avoiding the dead man's empty gaze - she had killed before, but never had to deal with the aftermath.. Even while looking away she could feel the fear in his still-clenched fists, one holding a wand tightly. The man's other hand had a simple gold band on the ring finger.

The crying continued, and she found the stairs and began to walk up them. There were photographs, still moving, as if to mock their occupants. Most were of three people: a dark-haired man with glasses, a redheaded woman with a kind smile, and a baby, with the dark hair of his father. She realized with a jolt that the man was already dead and felt a shiver go down her spine at his cheery smile in the photos. As she went up, step by step, the boy became older. In one of the last pictures he was laughing and stretching out his arms and he walked clumsily towards his mother.

Finally she reached the landing and turned her head away, trying to ignore the fact that she had been, only a few moments ago, preparing to kill another mother and father - and a boy, only a little baby, hardly older than the one in the photos -

She bent over and was sick.

After a few moments, coughing and spitting out the bad taste in her mouth, she managed to stand upright again. Steeling herself, she walked unsteadily down the hall.

The first door she passed opened to an empty room - a bedroom, she thought - and she kept walking, following the sound of the wailing to the second door, which was ajar slightly. Bellatrix stopped outside it, staring at the cheerily painted 'Harry's Room' on the door.

She couldn't remember the name of the Longbottoms' boy. It started with an N, she was sure - Nicholas? Nathan? No, Neville - that was it, she realized, and she made herself remember it.

When she opened the door she was shocked at the absolute chaos inside. Everything in the room was thrown against the walls, and the windows were shattered. The red-headed woman from the photos was lying across the floor, her arm stretched out and her fingers still curled slightly in a plea. Two rings - both silver - were on her ring finger.

Behind her, in a crib, sat the boy, crying loudly. She stepped over the woman's hand delicately and knelt down in front of the wooden bars. "Harry?" she said, and the boy hiccupped and sniffled, staring at her through teary eyes. There was a trickle of blood on his forehead.

"Mummy!" he wailed, pointing at the woman on the floor. Bellatrix stood up and lifted him from the crib, holding him close and shushing him awkwardly as he cried. Finally he began to calm down and looked up at her.

"Poor thing," she muttered, gently wiping the blood from his forehead, noticing absently that the cut it came from was shaped like a lightning bolt, and the tears from his cheeks, with the back of her hand.

Then, downstairs, a door slammed against a wall. She held Harry close and pulled her wand from her pocket. Frantic footsteps came up the stairs and down the hall, and a man came rushing into the doorway.

He was tall, with messy black hair, and handsome in a sort of unstudied way. His eyes flew to the body on the floor first, and he let out a dry sob before glaring up at her.

"You deatheater slime," he breathed, and pulled his wand from his pocket to point it at her.

"Sirius, dear cousin. What do you want?" she answered pleasantly. He snorted, and his eyes traveled to the baby, still held in her arm.

"Harry, are you okay?" he asked, and the little boy nodded. Sirius looked back to her angrily.

"Put him down, now, Bellatrix," he hissed, and she stiffened.

"And what right do you have to him?" Bellatrix asked angrily, raising her voice and leveling her wand at the dark-haired man.

"I'm his godfather. You, on the other hand, are a deatheater, which means the only thing you have the right to is a quick Kiss with a dementor!" he said grimly, and took a step forward, "And if you don't give him to me, I'll take him! Maybe then you'll miss the dementors entirely!"

"I'd like to see you try it!" she yelled, and Harry began to whimper. She looked down, distracted, and whispered, "Shh, Harry, it's okay - we're just talking, baby, -"

It didn't work, and he began to cry in earnest. Soon he was screaming loudly, his face covered in tears again. She tucked her wand in her pocket and began to rub his back, futilely.

"Give him to me," demanded Sirius over his cries, walking around the woman's body. Bellatrix looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He held out his hands, holding her gaze, and finally she handed Harry to him, watching amazed as he quickly soothed him.

"He's an orphan now, isn't he?" she asked, trying and failing to sound dispassionate. He cousin shook his head.

"No, he's got me," Sirius answered. Bellatrix watched him, feeling something long-forgotten tighten in her chest as Harry nestled into the man's arms and began to suck his thumb.

Then, outside, she heard a deafening crack. Sirius swore and drew his wand, carrying Harry over to the shattered windows. Bellatrix followed and they looked out gingerly.

On the sidewalk, a gigantic man was standing. Belllatrix vaguely recognized him - he had been the groundskeeper of Hogwarts during her seven years there. He looked up at them and confusion crossed his heavily-bearded face. "Sirius? What're yeh doin' here?" he asked, and the caught sight of Bellatrix. The man's eyes widened beneath his messy hair, and then his face reddened with rage.

"Traitor! Yeh bloody bastard, 'ee was yer friend!" he roared, and they ducked as he pulled a tattered pink umbrella from in his furry coat and fired a spell. Sirius began cursing loudly and fluently, and Bellatrix coughed. He looked startled, then glanced at Harry and bit his lip.

"Take him back from the window," said Bellatrix hurriedly, pulling her wand and summoning things from the changing table and crib, catching them deftly as they flew towards her. He backed away, and only a few seconds later the windowframe was blown inward, sending the remaining glass flying. Bellatrix slung a diaper bag packed full over her shoulder and grabbed Sirius' elbow as he began to turn on the spot. Then the world around them spun away.


	3. disintegration

In a grimy alleyway in London, Sirius and Bellatrix appeared, Harry held close in the man's arms.

"Where are we?" he asked shortly, backing away suspiciously.

"Muggle London. There's a hotel about a block down," she answered. He looked at her for a few moments, searching for signs of betrayal, then relaxed.

He transfigured some spare bits of paper into muggle money, and Bellatrix quietly confunded the owner as they paid for the room. They - or rather Sirius; his cousin didn't have a clue how to do it - changed Harry's diaper and put him in pajamas, and after they cast a sound-dampening charm over him to cut out the noise of police sirens and car horns, he fell off to sleep quickly.

Sirius didn't seem to want to talk, or perhaps he wasn't able to. Distant, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching Harry sleep. Finally Bellatrix interrupted the silence.

"His father was James Potter, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." Sirius' attention returned to the present. 'He's been under the Fidelius spell for a while now - " he broke off abruptly and stood up. "Peter, you bastard!" he hissed, and strode to the door.

"Wait, Sirius, where are you going?" Bellatrix asked with alarm. Her cousin turned around, keeping his hand on the doorknob.

"Do you remember Peter Pettigrew?"

"Yes, he was the fat guy, part of your group at Hogwarts, right? Why?"

"He was James' secretkeeper," confided Sirius angrily. 'He must have given James up - I'm going to rip his little ratty head from his shoulders-" he turned to the door again.

"Wait - you have Harry to take care of!" pleaded Bellatrix.

"And Harry doesn't have a mother or father, thanks to that scum!" growled Sirius, turning about. "Peter deserves to pay - "

"And then what will Harry do?" Bellatrix sneered. "A dead mother and father and nothing to remember them by - a murderer for a godfather - who's going to take care of him then?" she ranted, almost yelling. Sirius stared at her for a moment, then turned and punched the wall, hard.

"Why? How could he?" he screamed, and hit it again, then again and again. Bellatrix stood by awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

"Why?" he cried again, falling to his knees and hitting the wall one last time. His fist left a smear of blood on the wall, and the darkhaired woman sucked in a breath, then, pulling herself together, knelt and put her arms around him.

"Why..." he asked again, and the tears began to fall as his knuckles bled thickly onto his worn jeans. Bellatrix sighed.

"Siri - " she used the nickname she had called him when they were children, hoping it would calm him - "It can't be changed - it's over and done, and you have Harry to think of now," she said, helping him stand up, then backing away. Siriuswiped his face with his sleeve, looking away quickly to Harry.

"You're right," he said after a moment, glancing at her. "It won't change anything." He looked down at his knuckles, still bleeding slightly, and rubbed them clean on his jeans without flinching.

"I'll be back in a while," he said, and was out the door before Bellatrix could protest. She laid down next to Harry and watched the rise and fall of his tiny chest for a long time, thinking of death, and friendship, and things which cannot be changed, but can be atoned for, and the right thing to do.


	4. awake to the light

**Author's Notes: **Sorry for the [very] long wait! More is coming soon. Also, I'm not pleased with my characterization of Bellatrix in the previous chapters - and I feel that this story would do a bit better with some explanation at the beginning as to my view of the situation. So, expect some changes in the first four chapters, and check back often!  
So to those actually still reading this... I've got a question for you. I know I need to cover a few specific incidents in the years between the current time and school-age Harry. What would you prefer - just skipping over the dead space, or spending more time on it?

If I spend more time on it, I'll probably end up making the years before Hogwarts a story in their own, and then make Harry's school years a second story.

Opinions?

And as for the nicknames... I'm going with Pup, from Sirius, and Petit from Bellatrix (I've always thought she had French heritage, and this means 'little' in French).

EDITED TO FIX: my 3 a.m. bad memory of the Black family, and the wrong age difference between Bellatrix and Sirius.

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When the morning light began to break over the buildings of Muggle London, reaching the almost-silent hotel room, Bellatrix roused herself, blinking blearily. She was curled up uncomfortably on the single bed, leaving the other side to the sleeping baby... who was no longer sleeping, and whose face was contorted into a decidedly uncomfortable-looking position as he squirmed around on the bed. It took a moment for her to realize that the sound-dampening charm was still over Harry, and that the odd face was due to his full-strength protest about not being fed or changed within the last - she glanced at the clock while taking off the charm - five hours -

Merlin, the child had a pair of lungs in him to rival any full-grown adult. She winced, muttering placating nothings, more than once including curse words that would have caused most well-bred witches to blush, and began the task of changing him, rocking him as she prepared a bottle, finding a burping cloth - all the while thanking her stars that she'd had ample opportunity to learn how to care for a baby. She had been older than both her sisters, as well as her two cousins - Sirius by nine years, as she had often reminded him in those long-ago days of family rivalry. And she and Andromeda had therefore by default often been the ones to watch the children when any important social event had occured which required the Black Family in attendance.

Finally, the dark-haired baby stopped crying and simply laid against her, hiccuping a little, as she took smooth, gliding steps around the room, holding him in one arm and twirling her wand with her free hand - a nervous habit that she had never quite been able to break.

Sirius had not yet returned, and she was beginning to get worried. He had never been known for his caution and careful planning, she thought wryly.

As the sun continued its slow rise up the blinds, she rocked Harry back to sleep, noticing that the cut on his forehead was healing well. She laid him gently on the bed before touching it gently, drawing back as he flinched away in his sleep.

She pulled the room's single chair over to the window and disordered the blinds a bit so she could see out into the courtyard below, to watch for Sirius' return. Her elbows on her knees and chin resting on her palms, she almost fell asleep again before seeing a familiar black-haired man stride across the courtyard.

When he came in the door, she looked up from her perch on the chair but didn't say anything; a finger across her lips and a nod to Harry was enough to get the point across. Sirius collapsed on the floor, leaning against the end of the bed and closing his eyes.

"We have to leave soon," she whispered after a while, and Sirius nodded without opening his eyes. His face was haggard and he really needed to shave, she observed - she could feel the greasiness in her own hair and on her skin, and she was fairly sure neither of them was particularly lovely-smelling at the moment.

"That's what I was doing," he whispered back, the words coming out in more of a croak. "Grimmauld Place is safe. Not exactly someplace I wanted to return to, but it's safe. I made sure. Safe even for Harry."

Bellatrix would have been surprised, if she hadn't been too tired. Grimmauld Place had been a horrible place for Sirius and his brother, Regulus, growing up - even in a Pureblood family, the rules, regulations, and expectations placed upon them were harsh and demanding. Regulus, taking the easier choice, had followed the path of Pureblood superiority his parents had set out - albeit with even more enthusiasm than they expected, joining The Dark Lord before he'd even graduated. But then, he had defected - less than three months ago now - and the Dark Lord had killed him with his own hands, according to the rumors.

Sirius had been the rebellious one, the one who painted his room Gryffindor colors after getting sorted into the house, the one who made a point of avoiding his family at Hogwarts and instead chose the company of the light, solidly embracing the alternative. And he had now been cast away.

They sat there for a while, Sirius half-sleeping, Bellatrix staring out the window.

"So what are we doing?" Sirius rasped finally, opening one eye in such a characteristic gesture that she was instantly transported to being eight years old, telling him sternly naptime was over and he needed to come eat or else his mummy would be mad.

"What do you mean?" she whispered back, shifting her gaze back to the window, watching a plump muggle family leave.

"Harry. You," he didn't open the other eye, but she could see the wariness in his posture, "Can I trust you not to hurt him."

She paused for a second, before she realized the silence was making him nervous.

"Completely. Last night - my mission, my initation, was to - remove the Longbottoms." She swallowed, hating herself for her failure even as she knew it was no failure, but rather the best decision she had made in years. "I couldn't do it," she muttered harshly, staring out the window, jaw set.

After a few moments of silence, she glanced quickly at Sirius, just in time to see a calculating expression on his face disappear, replaced by cold determination.

"I want you to swear to me now, right here, that you will never hurt Harry, and that if you do, you do so with the full knowledge that I will hunt you down and make you wish you'd killed yourself."

"I do swear so, and furthermore I swear that I will defend Harry," she remarked calmly, making the requisite motions with her wand to make her words a binding spell, "Til my last breath."

Well, she'd managed to make him open the other eye - in fact, he was now sitting up straight, mouth a little agape. "Close that, Siri, you'll attract flies," she commented, and he growled annoyedly at her.

Harry stirred a bit in his sleep, and they lowered their voices again.

"So... Grimmauld Place?" she whispered, a bit more comforted now that they had a plan.

"Yes. It's not the most ideal place, but it's safe... and I don't know what else to do - I don't know how much of the - of Dumbledore's crowd is trustworthy or alive, and I don't know where most of the Deatheaters are - sparing you, of course," and here he nodded civilly.


End file.
